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They reached the holiday section, shelves brimming with festive covers.

“Excuse me, miss, can you help me find a book?”

Alesha turned back to Maisie. “Everything you need is right here. I’ll be right back.”

Then she faced the customer with an easy smile. “Of course! What can I help you find?”

And just like that, The Lit Loft swept her into another book-seeking mission.

Alesha was working late at the bookstore, so Reece had dinner with his parents. He’d expected something quiet and low-key, with Christmas Eve the next day.

Instead, his mother had blueprints.

“I thought we talked about this,” he said carefully. “You just finished one renovation. Why not wait a little while?”

“For what?” Marlene asked, genuinely confused. “That was the business—this is our home. The kitchen is outdated, the bathrooms need to be gutted, and that’s just the beginning.”

Reece glanced at his father, who just shrugged.

“I can’t commit to anything right now, Mom. I’ve got several jobs lined up in Albany next month. I’ll be spending a lot of time there.”

“What about Alesha?” she asked. “Are you breaking up with her?”

“What?” he choked. “No! Why would you even ask that?”

“Well, it sounds like you’re planning to leave. I thought the two of you were serious.” She tilted her head. “I assumed you’d ask her to move back to Harbortown. Maybe even move in with you.”

This was the last conversation he wanted to have with his parents.

“It’s a little soon for that,” he said evenly. “She’s only here for another week, and it’s Christmas. We’re both going to be busy with family. And she has a life in Oregon.”

“She could have a life here,” Marlene countered. “Have you even talked to her about it?”

“If Alesha decided to move here, I wouldn’t pressure her to move in with me.”

“Why not? What if she ends up somewhere terrible? One of those awful apartment complexes—or worse, buys a house that’s falling apart?”

He rolled his eyes. “Mom, she’s a grown woman. If she wanted to move, I’d recommend Harlow Bradshaw to help, and, as a contractor, I’d go along and make sure everything’s in good shape.”

“How very businesslike of you,” she muttered.

“What was that?”

“Nothing.” She pushed back from the table. “Harry, talk to your son.” And with that, she left the room.

Reece looked at his father and grinned. “So? Talk to me.”

Harry set his fork down and leaned forward. “You know she means well.”

Reece nodded.

“So, what are your plans?” his father continued. “Have you talked about what happens after the holidays? If she goes back to Oregon, do you visit her? Try long-distance? Or call it what it was and move on?”

When he put it like that, it sounded… bleak.

“Can I offer my opinion?” Harry asked.

“Of course.”